Reincarnation
by Aviator Dark
Summary: [Slight reader/Oblio, AU] How far will one go to ensure the safety of his love?


_When a human being dies, the human is given a choice. They can reincarnate, and live once again. If they have lived enough, and have done enough good for the world, they are allowed to become a Death God._

_Death Gods have a task: they must help human beings find their way back into reincarnation. And, through this method, Death Gods relive the pleasure of a human being. They can live on for as long as they like, and reincarnate once again if they want to._

_But the true wish of a human being is never known. They may want to become a Death God out of anger, pain, joy, or love. In many cases it is neither. But a Death God gains more than what they give. They feel nothing, need nothing, but get everything. _

•

•

•

It hurt.

My hands bound by the cold handcuffs, heavy and uncomfortable, and my feet chained together by freezing links of rusted gray. I didn't know why I was here.

All I could remember was me, sleeping in my bed, all alone, when a sense of peacefulness met me. It touched me, a calmness that slowed my breathing. And blue. I... I could remember blue. It was so soothing that I fell into the hands of warmth. I was lulled, until I heard something snap...

Red. A furious red that shot through the hazy blue mist, tearing away all my comfort, and poured shock into me. I was alerted, breathing quickly, and then I saw a blade of pure vermillion, flashing in front of my unbelieving eyes.

Then I woke up, here. Sitting alone, leaning against a damp, mossy wall that looked old and musty. Roaches skimmed the floor, but strangely I felt no distaste or will to shoo them away. All that I felt was... despair.

Footsteps echoed from somewhere in the corridor, and I saw a figure, wearing a leather jacket. As the silhouette neared a gap in the walls, light illuminated its face, revealing the physique of a male. His blue hair was sleek and he sported dark clothes tinted with blue. And as he walked closer to me, I could recognize him easily. But I didn't say his name.

"You."

He grinned, an expression that revealed no sympathy to my pain. "Me," he whispered. Then he took hold of right hand, unlocking my strange handcuffs. He then went though a similar procedure with the chains on my feet. A grimace came from his mouth when he realized that my ankles had been skinned, thanks to the thick iron rings around them. "Don't worry," he murmured. "You'll be fine."

I still had no idea what he was doing to me, let alone why. But he helped me up by taking my hand. And he assisted me as I got to my scrawny feet. I realized how gaunt I must have looked like, when compared to him. I was all skin and bones while he was healthy and still in the flesh.

"Let's go," he voiced soberly. I understood his command and his tight face, which gave away no emotion anymore. He took me through the corridor, when I noticed my hand grow faint. Like a ghost. "Wha... what's happening to me?" I panicked, but he silenced me. "It happens." And yet, 'it' didn't do anything to reassure me.

Moving ahead, I was feeling haunted. I could see through my own hand now, and whenever I looked at myself I was faint and glowed a little, which disconcerted me. And yet I felt safe in his embrace. We passed through the seemingly endless walls, until I could see a double door.

He looked at me. "I can't follow you there," he told me. "You must go on your own." And, with a mighty hand, he pushed the doors, opening me to a path of light. I was held back in awe. He looked away from me, hiding his face behind a sheen of his sapphire hair.

Not a moment later, he walked away, back into the darkness. I reached out, almost about to grab his arm. He spun immediately, as if he sensed me. And as I neared him, I felt horrified. I couldn't touch him. My hands brushed _through _his arm. I was rendered speechless.

"See?" he asked. "You need to go. I can't leave you here on your own."

"But..."

"Go." He made himself sound like he wouldn't argue with me any longer. And with that he left me alone. I could barely hear the sound of his steps. He was vanishing away, and as I reached out with my ghostly hand, I heard a noise behind me. The light flooding out of the door was stirring, and it was pulling me towards it.

I tried to writhe out of it, but the force was too powerful. It lashed out, and yet it wasn't violent. It was mere, but was enough to grab me. Little by little, my energy ran out as I tried to fight it.

Weakened by the long walk with the blue-haired friend I once had, I had nothing left to fend for myself. I was skinny and unable to move anymore. I gazed at the opening of the dark corridor, wishing he could have been with me till the end...

•

•

•

The man, swathed in black, walked away as he heard the screams coming from the door he had left. _She will be fine, _he thought. She did not know anything about him anymore, but he would miss her dearly. At least she hadn't chosen the path of a Death God, the path had he had chosen. She would reincarnate, and after years of a happy life she would be able to join him again.

Reincarnation was what normally happened to mortal beings. Then they would live another life, without remembering the one they once had. If one lives honestly and treasures all that they have, they will be granted a better life, and ultimately a choice: to continue and reincarnate, or live on forever as a Death God.

Having lived many lives, this very man could remember each one of them. He had been a man fighting wars in the eighth century, and he recalled being a prince during the thirteenth. Once, he had been a servant to a Chinese emperor. Another and he lived as a European citizen with no particularly high rank, and then he lived as a caretaker in a horse stable, during the seventeenth century. He lived a short life as a boy who ended up killed by a sickness, and then became the man who chose to become who he was now: a Death God.

But now he chose to no longer reincarnate, because there was someone who he wished to see again. Fate was not I be trusted; he might never meet her again, not even in another life. She was one-of-a-kind, and he had never found true love in his days as a reincarnation.

As a Death God, however, he had a chance of seeing her again. Despite having to help others reach the path to reincarnation, he could one day meet hers. Her new face. Her new look. A new person, and yet not truly someone he didn't know. He would see her again, someday, again and again.

Maybe being a Death God wasn't so bad, thought Oblio.

No, it was perfect for him.

_Does she miss me?_

He hoped so.

•

•

•

**I honestly have no idea what motivated me into writing this. Perhaps it was because I've been reading too many books on philosophy, and needed something else... so I wrote this. It needs plenty of working on, I'm sure, but this remains a one-shot because I have no current will to allow this universe I created to blossom. **


End file.
